


Chordae Tendineae

by Patchlamb



Category: Original - Fandom, Short Story - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Faun - Freeform, Fox - Freeform, Satyr, forest, light fluff, platonic or nah?, violion, wander - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:43:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2823815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patchlamb/pseuds/Patchlamb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world of walls, looking out of windows, and tightly enforced schedules, one cannot simply ignore the beck and call of freedom from the woods. Barefoot into the unknown, a girl finds herself a guest of the satyr who stole away her violin. Her very presence brings about catastrophe, and with the help of a grinning fox-person she glues things back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chordae Tendineae

**Author's Note:**

> Creation: Nov 13, 2013.  
> Finished: Dec 22, 2014.

Since age three I played. Mother was a clever woman who gifted me the tiny instrument for a birthday. Knowing no other world beyond the boundaries of the yard and school walls, I let my release be my first screechy notes. A sound only a mother could love; just the same she loved me, I was the mother of my sound and I loved every uneven note. Now I am alone. Mother is gone, the yard is gone, my school is gone, and I am left alone to my devices in my bitter-sweet house next to the pond.

The smooth sound of bow upon string was no less then Heaven itself. The melody would spread into the room, and, eyes closed, I would imagine the world in my head as if it were complete. My toes would curl into the thick rug below my feet and I would day dream to the music. What did I know of worry when it escaped me through a-chords? Traveling from my cranium into my wrist, down through my fingers, into the bow, then out with the sound. Yes, the violin was my true calling, and I savored every moment I had to let it sing for my aching mind.

The day was over; the night was calm and practice was done. I lay curled up in the warm covers of my bed, oblivious to the night and the dark of my room. Come morning, I awoke early. First, I was to have breakfast, as I do everyday. An omelet with cheese and a glass of orange juice made for sufficient energy. Then an hour of reading quietly, for books are important for an ever growing knowledge of the world. One cannot stay cooped up at home forever, one must leave eventually and books are the guides on how to advance. After, it was practice. The stress of existence would escape my body when the hair hit the strings; I entered the living room ready for step three of any normal day.

Panic; as if a arm had been slowly sawed off. The case was open, the instrument missing. “How am I supposed to go on?” I whispered. Pillows were tossed into the floor, chairs went overturned. “Perhaps I misplaced it in my sleep? Behind the couch? On the kitchen table? No, I ate there hours ago, it was not there.”

Drifting through the open window came a cool spring breeze. It was enough to calm my pained body as I sat upon the windowsill, looking out. The sun cast shadows in the woods and reflected off the still waters of the murky green pond. “It's messed up now,” I said “practice cannot happen any later than this. I have it written down, nine-o-clock, violin practice until eleven-thirty.” a sigh escaped from my small lips. I shook my head. “It's nine-o-three, now. What a disaster.” 

My legs slipped from off the window into the room. I stepped into the center, looked down upon the dusty old rug, then back up to the pale white wall before me. I stared at it blankly. Everything was wrong, I could not continue until the next step. That was just how it was. For years it had always been: wake up, breakfast, read, violin, read, lunch, free time, dinner, violin, sleep. It was most certainly not: wake up, breakfast, read, stand in living room and stare blankly in confusion. 

As I contemplated just how much longer I would need to stand there, a beautiful sound entered through the window. My head was drawn towards the forest, which rattled slightly from the wind. Again I leaned over the windowsill, looking out into the trees. I stilled my breath and let myself listen. The sound was soft and bouncy, as if it were the very music of spring itself. I found my missing violin! There was no mistaking the smooth chords for anything else. To imagine- my violin was in the woods! A kind of frustration bubbled up into my head, spewing emotion over my face. It had been stolen.

There was only one reasonable solution; retrieve it. Who would expect a thief to return something so precious? And, even from where I sat, legs now dangling over the window edge, the thief had experience with playing. So, with nervousness and anxiety, I took a deep breath, then gentle slid my feet into the grassy carpet of the outside.

My hair- long and un-combed- fluttered about my face. My eyes watched the trees, as if their bark would bite. The most I had ever gone into the real world- free of concrete and humans- had been my front yard when I lived with mother in her house. And now, here I was, staring danger right in the face. Baby steps, right? Cautiously I took a step. Then another, and another, and I made a rhythm to the sweet music echoing from the woods to the point I was eventually at the edge of the forest. 

As if frozen in place, I scanned the ground. As any good forest of trees, it was riddled with thickets and twigs. I was barefoot, wearing nothing more than a low-cut spaghetti strap shirt and tawny shorts that went above the knee. “Perhaps a bad idea.” I rasped. “Should have come ready, the parasites and birds could attack me and I'll go home with nips and less teeth.” but still, the sound sung for me to follow and reclaim it. 

My journey towards the music pressed forward, deeper into the unexplored world. The tone of the music changed as I would advance closer. The sound of spring became a desperate plea. The song of the lonely lover, wasting away into the dust they were born from. It was the sort of song that gave one chills, but ebbed one to continue to listen for so long as the strings poured their feelings aloud. I felt my pace slow, simply to hear what it had to say. 

The moment of truth upon me. No weapons, no plan. Clever as I imagined I was, pressed behind a tree, I peeked about the side and rushed to the next closest one. I made my way and, eventually, I knew the next time I looked around I would see this artist before me. The music was too close for me not to, least my mind spawned the sound from thin air. Ready for this trek to be over, legs and feet covered in cuts and pricked with thorns, I leaned and finally saw.

She was tall, standing perfectly straight with a sway about her. Her thin brown hair was lobbed off short and uneven around her head, and her tail gave a wag with certain chords. Yes, her tail was stubby and a pale creamy brown, while her joined legs were that of a dark, rich brown. From her hips up was near hairless, contrasting with the somewhat ratty fur of her lower half. An ear twitched in my direction, and I removed my face from sight, as she could see me were she to turn her head.

Never had I heard such lovely playing; now that I was only a short distance from it I could hear it for what it really was. It was no less than a masterpiece; the sort of heart felt that sent pulsations through your frame and bid you to close your eyes and stay. It was low and sad, and I wished I was as good as she was with the violin.

It must have been some time that I had listened, as at some point the world became fuzzy and black and all I could hear was the music. Then, I heard nothing at all.

I was greeted with the flicker of candle light beside my head, fluttering into my eyelids. My body awoke, flat on my back and laying upon a cushion of leaves. Eyes open now. My head spun with bouts of confusion. I was no longer in the forest, but within a little cramped cabin of sorts. The walls were rotting logs, and there was a little fireplace upon the wall opposite of me towards my feet with a pot over it. I blinked my sleep away and turned my head. Sitting cross legged upon the floor was the satyr, back to me and pricking at what was obviously my violin. The candlelight from the bedside table cast orange hues over her back, and the fireplace over her unseen front. I sat up.

“You wake!” I heard her say, ears perked.

“You stole my violin.” I said, rubbing eyes. “Give it back.”

The satyr seemed to mull over this in her head before turning her body to me. Her chest was not covered, and her small rounded breasts shown clearly before me, wrapped in her smooth, tan skin. “Not stolen, I might have returned it.” she said, chin up. “Someday.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, leaves falling to the floor as they crunched under my movement. “You didn't ask! I stared at the wall for a good few minutes because of you, and there are thorns in my feet!”

She smiled, her odd slanted eyes and horizontal pupils shining in the light. “Would you like me to get those out?”

My face contorted with confusion. “Get what out?”

“The thorns.”

I thought for a moment, glaring down at her. Her tone tested my intelligence, and I was offended. For a moment I wondered what goat meat tasted like. “Yes, fine, least you can do.”

She gave a nod, tenderly set the violin to the side, then scooted closer and grabbed an ankle. “Less worried about where you are, who you are with, and more concerned with your feet.” she said matter-o-factly with a snort, finding a sore area to pick out a splinter from. “Pricks are little things, why bother? You should have been made with hoofs.”

Face pinched with the pain of her nails, I let my eyes skitter about the cabin. “You're right.” I agreed. There was a small square window near the door of the house, and I wondered if they either happened to be locked. She pulled out a thorn and I flinched. “Ow!”

“Hush. I'm doing you a favor, you know.” she said, pleased. 

Despite she sitting on the floor and my higher position on the bed, I suddenly felt very powerless. I had come to take back my beloved instrument, but ended up at the mercy of a beast's hands. And, not only a beast, but the very thief I was to go after! My books back home talked about satyrs, and how tricky they were. Being honest, they never mentioned female satyrs before. Perhaps they were just as capricious?

A few minutes passed, and then her warm fingers set to gently touching each one of my cuts and scratches that I had received on my short journey. Her head tilted up and she smirked up at me. “I have payed the price for stealing away your violin, now you must forgive me.”

I pulled my legs up onto the bed. “No. Where am I?”

She seemed irritated at my response, and replied with an edge. “My home. I heard you approach me, and found you asleep. It's dark now. You may leave if you wish but do not cry when the fox bites your feet, human who never sees the woods.”

She made a very good point; who was I to reject her offer? “I will stay, but only tonight. Then in the morning I'll take my violin and go back home.”

She slowly bowed her head and smiled. “You may call your host Aspasia.”

I nodded down at her. “I am Free.” I said.

She shook her head and her mouth tilted, lips pursed. “No, that is not how you are called.”

She was right clever, that saytr. I rubbed my hands over my sore feet and toes. Yes, it was most certainly dimwitted to wander about the forest without covering. “How would you know?” I said. “I'm June.”

Then she stood up. I watched her legs unfurl and stretch, the muscle strong under fur. Her hoofs were light on the wood flooring. She crossed to the far side of the house opposite the door, where I just noticed a cubored stood. From it several items were pulled, though I could not see them, and she went to the pot beside the fireplace. “I cannot leave my guest without a meal.” she said. The items were tossed lazily into the pot, then she filled it with water from a tea kettle sitting off to the side of the fireplace.

After some time the pot began to boil. She would stir it every so often, keeping it from spilling. “You do not speak so much now.” she said perceptively.

I shrugged behind her back. Then we both heard a racket on the roof, as if something hard had fallen onto it. It rapped, and then was silent again. Her head tilted up, she sighed. “Perhaps that is a good thing you are so quiet.” she said.

The soup was done and she retrieved two old blue stone bowls from her cabinet. Both were filled to the brim with the steaming soup. I carefully smelled it, legs stretched out over the bed. “What is in this?” I asked her, as she was sitting beside me.

“Eat it quickly, soup is hardly good cold. There are natural herbs for more flavoring.” she replied, as if that answered my question.

Either way, I did not press and sipped on the edge of the bowl. The liquid was quite tasteful, with an odd sort of flavor impossible to name. A good guest to the end, I ate all of it with the crooked spoon I had been provided with. “Thank you.” I said, ever so polite. Then my eyelids became heavy, and my body was thick with sleep. I blinked, the world was fuzzy and my head swam. “I'm so tired.” I said.

She nodded. “Of course. The herbs don't suddenly cease working at some point of life. Goodnight.” 

I laid down and she took the empty bowl and spoon away. On the edge of unconsciousness, she slipped in bed beside me, and then I slept.

Vaguely I picked up on voices. In my state I was unable to determine where they originated, and settled on making up a dream based around their dialogue. 

“Then he did not lie.” someone said, voice deep. “And you tried to hide it!” I saw in my mind a tall, rough looking boy, and he was yelling at a girl who was ignoring him. My dream did not have an eye for detail, and if I were to think hard I could have realized they had no facial features.

“Don't be this way. Don't be trouble.” a familiar voice then replied. “Tell him it was a mistake, that the bird heard nothing. We'll leave immediately if you do so!” the girl was now trying to convince the boy of something. She sipped on tea and crossed her legs, though she was sitting upon the very air itself. She was angry.

“I can't do that.” he said.

“Why not? Is he considering making you his queen?” she spat.

There was a sputter and a silence. “That's besides the point!” he finally answered back. The boy wore a crown and his eyes flamed. “I have my orders. You and the human are to report to his majesty immediately, and if you do not cooperate, he will have you both hunted down. You will become prey to the most wolfish of us.”

Again, silence. Then my side was jostled, and my eyelids stretched open as if they had been glued down. “Come! Come!” I heard my host say. The boy queen and the tea sipping girl vanished, and light invaded my vision. “We must go away now, away from my home.” she sounded worried.

Without breakfast she and I were escorted into the woods by a large stubby legged satyr, who had quite a bit of muscle and large black spots on his chocolate hide. From his mop of blonde hair sprung two thick noir horns, curling back slightly but not so much as to be called ram horns. He did not speak much, but when I had caught a glimpse of his face before leaving he had a twisted look of concern.

“Where are we going?” I whispered to Aspasia who trotted along beside me.

She sighed out her nose, which wiggled a bit when she breathed; almost like a rabbit's nose, but not so flat. “You will be royally introduced to the head of my herd.” she replied, and said no more.

“I'm sorry.” the large satyr sighed. I suddenly felt like a prisoner, and really wished I had my shoes.

Soon we came to a clearing within the forest, and sitting upon a throne of mossy logs in the center was a scrawny, long-legged, pale white sort of satyr. He wore a crown of bramble and thorns on his head, and I couldn't help but imagine him as Jesus on the cross; nailed to the wood and bleeding to death. He rested his head on a boney hand, elbow propped on the arm of the wooden throne. I was about tired of wood. I really was. He bore four white horns; two curving up, and two curving down. On his shoulder there was a large silver-eyed raven.

Around the clearing several other beast-people stood and sat about. They ranged in colors and horn size, shape and gender, but all were that of either goat, deer, or ram. Except, out the corner of my eye, there was the bright fur of orange and black, farther from the herd but within earshot. I turned my head to this point of interest, and the thing glared at me and slid behind a tree. It was most certainly a fox-person, but I had never heard or read of such a thing. 

“You finally show up to the meeting.” the booming yet gentle voice of the four horned goat said. “We have been waiting to discuss this. . . calamity.” I saw this king gesture towards me, and I scowled.

The stubby legged escort took a position beside the throne, and Aspasia bowed her head politely. “Your majesty,” she said “I was simply looking after a lost traveler who had become lost.” 

The pale king straightened his back, his narrow eyes looking down and scrutinizing she and I. “You know the rules. No human shall lay eyes upon any of our kind. The old ways may have allowed for vigorous relations with these naked creatures, but that is no longer possible.” he reached up with a hand and scratched the bird perched comfortably on his hide, which gave a shriek.

“Yes, sire, but what was I to do? She was-”

“Enough!” called the raven.

“Enough,” repeated the king. “Judgment has already been passed.”

All the beast-people began to chant “Banishment! Banishment!”

I looked about the animals and was frightened, curving in on myself slightly. My eyes again found the pale saytr up on his high throne. “Wait!” I called, silencing the animals. “It wasn't her fault, sir, I came without shoes, not knowing about the woods, and I was fearful of being hurt in the dark. She let me stay is all, so I would not come to harm.”

A murmur whispered through the clearing, and the king examined this information carefully. The raven was agitated, and turned to whisper in his ear. After a moment, the king spoke again. “You have broken the law- knowingly- for humanity who we shun. It is decided. You will be banished from the herd.”

Aspasia's mouth gaped, and her head lowered in shame. I looked upon her sadly, feeling her dejection. “But where will you go?” I said quietly to her. I was unsure how well she heard me, he ears near flat to her skull.

The stubby legged saytr again came to us, chin lifted and face solid and blank. “Aspasia and human! You have been judged accordingly to your crimes against the herd and its king. From henceforth you will be banished, and not allowed to return to the herd. The animals of the forest will no longer spare your hide. If you come face to face with coyote, you are free game to hunt.”

My host did not reply, keeping her eyes glued persistently to the forest floor. Suddenly, everyone turned their backs to us, all but the king who could not. “I am blind to you, now.” he said, then covering his eyes. The raven also covered its face with its wing.

Aspasia turned in her place, and began to slowly walk away from the group. I followed her out as she wandered into the thick of the woods, far from the herd and into the loneliness. We walked until we could no longer see the herd, and she had yet to speak. I fidgeted, my feet aching and the onset of a headache began to thump in my head. “Now what?” I asked. “Aspasia, where are you going?”

She sighed through her nose and looked up. Her slit eyes glanced at me in disinterest as she spoke. “Come, human girl June, you must take what is yours then go away.” her voice soft and heavy with agony, as if on the verge of tears. “You must not stay in the forest. They have free reign to kill you, too.”

I continued on beside her, following the slow pace of her hoofs. “My violin?” I asked.

She nodded. “Of course.” 

From there we moved in silence. The forest about us echoed with morning bird song, giving the impression of liveliness. Sun filtered through the trees, and I could not help but imagine how ironic the world be so beautiful when a saytr has lost her herd. The world was simply not right, a saytr should not lose its herd at all. All the evidence pointed to me, to my selfishness and arrogance. Who was I, after all, to invade on nature for the reason of music? I could have bought another violin with mother's inheritance. Rather, I had allowed myself to tread where I did not belong. Had I not fallen asleep under that tree, I would not have woke in her cabin and gotten her shunned.

By the time we neared her house, there came the dodgy smell of smoke and fire that perked Aspasia's ears up. She tensed and her eyes widened in panic. “No!” she squeaked out, bounding ahead of me. I almost lost her footing, for she was quite swift, but following the scent of the smoke I was able to soon spot the bright burning of a forest fire. Aspasia was there, standing a short distance away, watching her house burn to the ground. The surrounding trees were thick with black leaves, I noticed, as the smoke bellowed high into the sky.

“My violin!” I whispered. “Your house!” 

“All gone. Years- just all gone. The kettle, the table, the windowsill, all my books and momentos- gone.” I heard her say. She slumped down onto her knees and stared until her nose crinkled and she began to wail. The night before I was at her mercy, her clever hands picking thorns from my feet. And yet now I stand and watch her as she shows the less graceful face of pain.

Just then the leaves began to create a loud ruckus, and I realized then that they were not leaves. Swarms of ravens perched upon every branch surrounded us, witness to the burning. I saw sitting among them a large raven with silver eyes. It was the bird who had sat upon the kings shoulder; the one who had whispered in his ear. It looked down at us silently as the others called and mocked my host's suffering. Then it ducked its head and spread its wings. As it left the rest followed, a black wave of organic ink flooded the sky and then they all seemed to disperse in different directions.

I let Aspasia cry, she did not seem ready to stop any time soon. Half an hour must have passed that we watched the manor sink into the flames, and my legs had become just as sore as my soles. She still continued to snivel. I finally sat down beside her shaking form, staring into the ground.

“What are you still doing here?” she managed to say through a wavering voice. “I have been outwitted, and I have failed to return to you what you own.” he paused for a long time. “Just go away. I am sorry.”

I felt astonishment, for after all the trouble I had been, she still had mention of being a good host. It made my mind wrench in guilt. I lifted my eyes to the fire, which was already coming to a slow, and moved my arm to wrap around her waist. She leaned into my touch, pressing into my side and buried her head into my shoulder. 

“You can come with me,” I said sullenly. “My house is big. You can have new books, and your own violin.”

“I've no right.” I heard her mumble into my skin. “No right.”

We sat there for some time until she calmed, exhausted and broken. My arm removed from her waist, she stood on unsettled legs and let herself indulge in one last mournful glance at the ash pile that had been her home. She turned and began to walk, just as she had after being banished.

I got up and moved to follow her. “Where to now?” I asked her.

She suddenly halted, eyes baring into the trees and ears perked up. “Quiet.” she whispered. I stood still. “There is hope yet?” she said, seeming more to question her own statement.

“How do you mean?” I asked her quietly as her legs moved her forward, I behind like some lost puppy. Then I heard the screech; a horrid, putrid sound that could make ones ears bleed were you in the close vicinity of it. In a moment I understood, and we continued in silence, her ears ever upright in focus.

Her hand flung out toward me as we had entered into the deep, freezing me in my tracks and eyes narrowing. “It has stopped. Silent for too long.”

I realized she was painfully correct. Our pace had been a constant, and the terrible sound at even intervals had sounded about seven times, but it had now ceased. Aspasia lifted her chin and gave a hearty sniff, her nose wiggling in that rabbit like way. “I know who that is.” she said under her breath. 

“Yeeees,” came a low raspy voice, hidden in the brush. “and I know who you are, if only for today. You have come, like a smart girl.”

“Smart indeed, to fall into a trap!” she said. 

I, utterly confused, wringed my hands and looked about. “Who's there? What trap?”

Two yellow eyes gleaming against the light appeared from the shadow, then the creature revealed itself to us. I looked upon him in memory of the meeting. It was the fox-person who had been watching from afar, a witness to Aspasia's banishment. He had the narrow face of a human, clever eyes, and from the stomach down his orange fur made him standout. A long puffed up tail followed behind him as he stepped closer to us, giving a knowing grin as if he believed himself to be the most scholar of scholars. Just the same, his inky hair was cut short and wild, sticking up in every direction. Like Aspasia and I he stood on twos, only he on little paws rather than hooves or flat skin.

“He is Rowtag, the fox.” Aspasia said to me. “Has Rowtag come to claim hunting rights on me? No fox can bite the ankle of goat without a swift blow to the skull.” she threatened. I could feel the pain in her voice, fresh from the fire. But still, she would fight for life.

Rowtag shook his head at her, grinning still with ears laid back. “Be calm, friend. Have I been known to attack your kind? This is no trap.” 

“So then my ears deceived me, did they?” my host retorted quickly.

He shook his head again, shrugging. “You conclude too fast, you heard what you heard.” he eyed me for a moment. “Come, follow me.” he turned and gestured with a clawed hand, looking over his shoulder at us as he tip-toed away.

Hesitant, Aspasia looked displeased at me, showing her feelings toward this unpleasant situation. She took my hand, gripping it tightly, then pulled me carefully along after the fox. 

“Come and see!” I heard him say gleefully ahead of us. My host let me go as the fox had stopped, leaning over a fallen log that had been hollowed out. He crouched on top of the mossy wood and nodded toward the hole, implying with his sly eyes. “Look inside.”

Aspasia slowly reached the log, lowering and peering inside the hollow. Her ears flickered curiously. They flattened suddenly, and she squirmed half her body inside before pulling out nothing less then my violin and bow. “So, we heard correctly.”

Rowtag nodded once, watching her carefully.

I leaped forward when Aspasia lifted the violin in my direction, smiling immensely at the feel of the smooth wood on my hands. “You saved it! Thank you!” I cried. I placed it under my chin, made sure the bow was tight, then placed the hair on the third string and tested the sound. As expected, it was off key. The sound of the string was pleasant no less, and and reveled in the sour note. I began to tune it by ear as they spoke.

Aspasia appeared to let herself smile if but for a second, before the corners of her mouth dropped once more. She looked at the squatting fox and shook her head. “You are a terrible violin player.” she said. “Your horrid notes could be heard throughout the entire woods!”

He smirked, all teeth, and slid off the log. “Ah, but if I were silent you would not have come! What better way to draw you, then to put disgrace on the sound you so love?”

I had to admit that had been a very effective plan. I put the violin under my arm, having finished tuning, and set the bow gently over my shoulder. “Why save it?” I asked. 

His tail flickered about. “You are very clever to ask.” he said. “I know of a way to allow your goat friend here back into the herd.”

I saw Aspasia's eyes widen, her slanted pupils dilating. She was in disbelief. “Lies!”

“Oh no, never!” Rowtag retorted quickly. “It's a very simple task too, and if it is a success then you will be let back in.”

“What have you to gain?” she said, ears back. 

He chuckled. “Gain?”

I shifted my weight, trying to ignore my feet. “I agree, foxes are smart. I read that in my books. You probably want something from us.”

He lifted up his little hands in defense. “Nooo, see, it's all in your favor.” the way he exaggerated his syllables did nothing for him. “I am going to challenge the king, that's all. Make a little wager.”

It was quiet as my host and I took in his words. She was contemplating an agreement. “We need more information than that.” she said lowly, I nodding with her.

His eyes narrowed and he lifted an eyebrow, displeased. “Just shake my hand. Either you want in, or you commit your hide to banishment for eternity and be consumed by the wild.” his hand was extended forward, and he eyed us expectantly.

After a hesitance, Aspasia lifted her arm and took hold. They shook, Rowtag grinning all the way. “Pleasure doing business.” then they separated and he stood straight, obviously proud. “It is midday. The king will surely still sit on his throne. Let us go and see, we must speak to him. He is vain, this shall be easy.”

We traveled back to the opening in the forest where the trial in the early morn had taken place. Rowtag instructed us to hide behind the trees until he gave us say-so to step into the light. I held my violin to my side lovingly, back against a tree with Aspasia jittering beside me. She was a sort of nervous, and I could not blame her. For since went did a fox make a deal without there being a consequence?

Rowtag stood before the king who glared down at him with mild frustration. “Fox, why do you stand before me?” the pale goat asked, leaning forward. The silver-eyed raven was nowhere to be seen, but the stubby legged satyr who had escorted us before stood stiff beside the throne.

The fox smiled up at the throne like he had smiled at us before. “Brave, glorious, wise king,” he started, bowing humbly a good dozen times. “I know the news, I regret you had to throw away one of your children!”

The king nodded, ears perked and eyes a bright yellow constant, boring down into the unflinching Rowtag. “Yes, it was unfortunate.”

Rowtag tilted his head, eyes narrow. He laid his ears back in submission, as if he were groveling. He was a very good actor. “And an even greater shame she could not be reintegrated.”

There was a pause from the king, his ears flickering in curiosity. “What do you mean? She has been banished.”

“Ahhh, yesss, I realize this. But you see, great king, I thought she would have done it.”

He seemed to lean forward further, bottom on the edge of his seat. “You're speaking in riddles! You dare mock the king then I will have you taken from my sight!” he gestured to the guard at his throne side.

Rowtag shook his head vigorously, tail twitching with anticipation. “Oh no, oh wondrous king! I only meant- I thought you knew? The bird did not tell you?”

The king was growing impatient. “Tell me what?” his eyes darted about the tree tops, skimming for sight of his raven, who was nowhere to be found.

“That only days before the girl you banished had been talking of challenge. To challenge you- of all things!”

I felt my heart pump in exhilaration; adrenaline swimming in my veins. Aspasia's ears flattened with irritation, yet she did not stir and kept her hidden position.

“Challenge!” barked the king loudly. He laughed with arrogance. “There has been no challenge of authority in over two hundred years, fox! She would never dare! I, king of four horns, could destroy she with none!”

Rowtag let him steam, glancing at the bitter looking guard whose expression was just as upset as the king's. “Exactly my point! But my lord, she did not speak of butting heads. No, you see she believed she was of greater skill than you.” he paused. “She believed that she could surpass you in a challenge of talent and passion. That is exactly what she said, my lord.”

The king leaned back in his chair, stroking the little fur on his chin. He considered this with all the reason he had in his being. “And why do you tell me this now, fox?”

It was then he chuckled to himself, licking his sharp teeth. “I come as a middle ground. The banished has. . . sent someone who may be seen by you, glorious king. Someone who wishes to battle for her right to the herd, for she cannot since you have cast her from your sights.”

“I am listening. Where is this challenger, then?” replied the king.

“Come, come!” Rowtag ebbed, looking towards the trees. 

I peeked around then stepped carefully into the light of the clearing, leaving Aspasia. The king stared down at me, his eyes narrowing as he noticed my bare skin. “The human who came before me with the banished?” he asked. “We no longer do dealings with human-kind, fox!”

Rowtag grinned. “But my lord, surely you cannot turn down this challenge? Is it that you fear to be beaten by a human?”

His anger bubbled forth as I came closer to my fox friend. The king leaned forward and gritted his teeth, thinking this over. “Fine. I accept this challenge! What be the skill this human believes she can preform better than I?” he asked as he jumped down from his sitting place. He was taller than expected, with a neat spine and attentive ears.

Rowtag backed up, moving me gently where he stood before. “See here, she holds a violin.” he said.

“Violin, eh? Then it is so!” he turned to the stubby satyr and snapped his fingers. The guard instantly ran off, and in seconds returned with a violin as pale white as the king himself. He smiled smugly, craned his neck up, and let out a loud bellow into the woods. The sound echoed around us. He looked down at me and waited, saying and doing nothing, and for a moment I was confused. Then, silently, the clearing began to fill with the faces of curious satyrs. I realized he had announced the challenge to his subjects.

“My people,” he said sweetly. “Here we have a competition of dominance!” he gestured to me, and I frowned when many of the deer-people and goat-people laughed their animal laughs. “She wishes to admit the recently banished back into the herd.”

“Wait!” said Rowtag, who had been quiet for some time. “Your people laugh! Certainly you will win. Let's say, if she wins- if this tiny defenseless mortal human wins- then not only may the banished come back, but she may take your place on the throne!” the animal people laughed even louder than before, and Rowtag smiled with amusement.

The king looked astonished by this sudden change. He glared for all but a second before smiling once more. He was an arrogant ruler, and obviously thought much of his own abilities. “I accept the terms.” he held out his hand and I shook it. “Good luck human-kind.”

I nodded to him and backed up. Rowtag smiled, looking between we two, and then said “The challenge will now begin! Quiet! Quiet! Human. Begin when ready.”

I placed my beloved instrument under my chin, tweaked the chords that had changed note, then set my bow in place to play. The clearing was silent, all the animal watched me intently, many with vicious grins. I noticed Aspasia had snuck into the back of the crowd where no one would see her. She showed nervousness, but gave me an encouraging smile anyways. I smiled back, and then began.

The sweet music poured from my hand and wrist as I manipulated the bow to my will. I laid out a song practiced many a time in my living room. I closed my eyes and was careful about my movements, and so far, I had not missed or wrecked a single note. When I opened my eyes again, the forest animals had stopped smiling, and gave looks of admiration and calm. All my worries fell from me in the song, so when I finished, my body was lax and I looked up at the king with no more anxiety. I glanced to the side without turning my head, and saw such a wonderful look upon Aspasia's face, that it was a wonder how she was not utterly swooning. 

“Well, what say you animals of the forest?” yelled Rowtag. The king's subjects clapped vigorously, not having expected my playing to be so good. There was even a sharp whistle among the roar of applause.

“You are greater than I thought.” grumbled the king. He straightened himself, which must have been a hassle being he stood so nicely already, and got into position. When he played, he played slow; his movements precise and original. It was nothing like I had heard before in all my years of music admiration. I felt myself almost lulled into a trance, the sprinklings of sleep nudging at my eyes and brain. Combined with the sight of the king's curved form and milky fur, his rebuttal was something amazing to watch, even from an enemy perspective such as I had. The king, in all his arrogance, was still a beautiful king. He finished his piece and placed his instrument under his arm, bowing to the little claps that sounded around us. He had put half of his subjects to sleep with his beautiful melody.

The tall satyr smiled nervously, and seemed to realize his applause wasn't quite as loud as mine had been. His music had been too thick with rest, and now that it had stopped those that had laid to sleep all began to sit up again. Had they been awake, perhaps the reaction could have been the same as mine.

Rowtag grinned, ears erect. He turned to the crowd with his hands behind his back, tail twitching. “I, the middle ground, have heard both of your arguments, and have taken into account audience feedback.” then he looked between we two, smug as ever, and faked sadness. “My lord, with judgment ever clear, I must declare the human-kind the winner of the challenge.”

Whispers rang our through the gathered group of animals, and the king was silent. I felt my head buzz with a sort of excitement, wondering what was to come next. My eyes found Aspasia, who had glee written all over her. She glanced about, unsure what to do now. Rowtag's voice took my mind away from her and back to the king, however.

“Human-kind,” he addressed. “The terms where that if you won the banished would return to the herd. And, as well, that you should take the throne.” he didn't sound all too pleased with the last remark.

I gaped my mouth, struggling to find a reply. Finally having my voice return to my throat, I spoke “I am a Queen?”

“I have lost to this human,” suddenly spat the old king quickly. “and I am ashamed.” it was as if he was suddenly filled with humility in every sense. He bowed on one leg before me, putting him at eye level. “You are the new ruler of the herd, I am no liar.” then he reached up, grabbed two of his horns, and snapped them off with much force. He repeated with his other two horns, rendering his head hornless other than small broken stubs where they used to protrude. They were held out to me, and blinking with astonishment I took them from his hands.

“Put them on!” Rowtag whispered eagerly, nudging me with anticipation.

I obeyed, not understanding what placing the horns to my head should do for me. But as I did so they bound to my skull in a painful way. They created a crackling sound as I winced with the sting, the four horns became a part of my bone. In essence, I had just been crowned. As they fused and the animals roared with new adoration, I noticed Aspasia push her way to the front of the crowd and into the center.

“All bow to the new queen!” Rowtag announced with a laugh, mockingly lowering himself just as the old king was.

All the animals followed his example, and I found myself in awe. Even more so when Aspasia, who stood happily before me, let herself kneel too. 

“I- I-” I fumbled with my words, watching them all fall before me. “what do I do now?”

Rowtag straightened. “Whatever you'd like, I imagine.” he wrung his hands together, looking up about the trees. “Mmm, you know, your majesty, you have a bit of a pest problem.” he said.

I, however, was too distracted to think about his declaration. Aspasia stood up and pressed herself into me, arms squeezing me tightly in an embrace. “June,” she said, dripping with bliss. “thank you for what you have done for me! I will forever be in your debt, Queen.” she pulled back and continued to smile with unhindered admiration. She kissed me on the cheek and buried her face into my neck, causing a shaken noise of surprise to come from my lips.

“June!” Rowtag said. “June! Your name is June! All hail Queen June!” he yelled. Everyone began to chant. 

I was really blown back. My mind was light headed with fog, and Aspasia was still hugging me. Rowtag, smirking in that way fox-people do, bore his sharp teeth and, from the corner of my eye, I could see him climb the throne. I tried to turn my head enough to see what he was doing, but Aspasia took a hand to my cheek and forced my face back before pressing a heavy kiss onto me. If I had been clouded over before, I most certainly was ten fold by now. The chanting had died down but there were cheers when she kissed me.

When she parted her mouth from mine her body retreated, finally letting me go. I struck a hand over my lips, eyes widened from shock. She did nothing but look terribly proud of her actions. The sound of flapping finally caught the attention of my ears, so when my gaze was at last able to find Rowtag again I almost grinned wickedly. 

It appeared the silver-eyed raven had earlier returned to his resting place at the King's chair. And now, the royal bird was being brutally consumed by the fox. “He's eating the raven!” I said dumbly, having removed my hand.

“Good,” commented Aspasia. “that bird was nothing if not a devil on the shoulder of the King.”

I glanced at her before watching as the last of the screaming avian was swallowed down into Rowtag's now full belly. Rowtag sat at the tippy-top of the chair, leaving the seat open. He removed a wad of feathers from his mouth, tossed the wet bundle to the dirt, and looked down upon Aspasia, the pale satyr, and I. “Well, I did say you had a pest problem.” he grinned.

The tall pale satyr turned toward me, as if thinking some profound thought. He did not seem shaken that his old servant just got eaten.“Lead them, human-kind. You are a special case.” he finally said, grimly.

“Will your horns grow back?” I asked stupidly. 

With that he laughed loudly, sending shocks of sound all about us. Then he looked down on me, turned, and walked away into the thicket with nothing but his violin and old servant behind him.

I looked around at the animals; they bowed then began to disperse. I am a Queen, I am a Queen, I kept repeating in my mind. I did not know how to be a Queen. My eyes found Aspasia's, and I must have looked horribly distraught, for she said “You will be a fine Queen, your Majesty.”

“Yes,” came Rowtag. “fine Queen indeed. First order of business, say 'I give permission of Rowtag to eat whatever he'd like.'”

I skewered my face up at him. “Get off my chair.” I said.

He feigned hurt, a hand to his chest. “You've wounded me.” he replied, slipping off. 

I, awkwardly, found myself sitting upon the throne, looking out over the expanse with my violin beside me. Aspasia looked up at me and smiled, Rowtag looked into the forest and smiled. Then, Aspasia began to head into the woods. I watched her, her head low. “Aspasia!” I called.

“Yes, your Highness?” she replied, turning to the throne with ears erect.

“Where are you going?

She blinked in a way as to say that this is obvious.”I have a lot of work to do. My house has been burned into ash, and I must build a new one.”

I stared at her incredulously. “All alone?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

I shook my head, unsure. “Why not stay here?” I asked.

She seemed confused, and so did Rowtag, who had taken to watching whoever it was that was speaking at the moment. “What?” her voice came. “I am not a satyr suited for royal ground.”

I almost found myself smiling at her humility, leaning toward one of the armrests. “Please, stay.” I begged softly.

“And me?” suddenly piped Rowtag, mouth wide.

A finger tapped chin, and I shrugged. “You ate the bird so I suppose you could take his place.”

He jumped from paw to paw and clapped, nearly squeaking like a child. “It is an honor!” he mocked. In truth, Rowtag was only happy to be close to a position of power. Who would dare pester him, the servant of the Queen?

“Your Highness,” quietly came Aspasia's little voice, who of which retreated closer to the throne.

My eyes looked down upon her expectantly, humming in response.

“Where is it that I fit in to this?” she asked, obviously scared to ask. 

I thought for a second, and then another, and another. I shrugged. “My second in command?”

She looked shocked. “S-second in command?” her gaze fell a moment, before coming back up. Her muscles were tense, her mouth gaped. “My Queen!” she said in a breathless way. “Are you asking me to-” she didn't finish.

I was almost confused, looking at Rowtag just to see a mischievous expression upon his wild face. “I'm not sure if there can be two queens at a single time.” he tried.

Suddenly it hit me what she believed me to be asking. My face flushed red, spreading to my neck and ears. “Oh!” I exclaimed. “No! I'm not asking you to marry me!”

There was almost disappointment on her face. “No, I'd expect not.”

I chuckled a little. “Please. Rule with me. I say there can be two Queens. We can build another throne.”

The satyr eyed me, face still blinking red. Finally she smiled and settled down beside the throne to the right, Rowtag to the left. I looked down upon them fondly. 

Despite what my new horns entailed I was no true Queen. By some feat of skill I wormed my way inside. I did not have a grasp on what responsibilities this would require of me. Yet still I sat upon that throne, those that put me there neatly beside me.

Perhaps it was that when my schedule had been broken, and when my violin had been stolen away, I had become destined to intertwine with the satyr bloodline. Barefoot in the woods went I, and barefoot will I stay. With those that sit beside me and my heart strings to play, every ear-twitching faun and fauna may stay humbly beneath me, human as I am.


End file.
